With Lasting Courage
by wryrose
Summary: Frey hears word of a supposed legend: if two lovers write their names together on the airship, they'll be together forever. It still counts if the legend's made up, right? / A Frey/Leon short story.


**Cross-posted from my account of the same username over at ao3.**

 **(See bottom for notes).**

This was silly.

And embarrassing.

And, considering the man in question, potentially dangerous.

Frey stood with her knuckles _almost_ brushing the door of her...boyfriend. Or something like that. He preferred the term _lover,_ but they weren't there yet, were they? Did it matter? The word made her feel squirmy, like a kid playing house. Surely she wasn't mature enough to be anyone's _lover._

Mature enough to run a town, though, apparently.

 _Well,_ she thought, exasperated, _aren't we being ridiculous today, Frey?_

A legend about the airship. That's what brought her here. Porcoline had made it up himself, claiming it was to inspire young lovers since the old locations of such things had fallen into disrepair.

It'd sounded good at the time. Now...

She felt dwarfed by the deep colors of oriental furnishings, anxious and small. Xiao Pai, balancing a book on her head, had pointed at the stairs when Frey walked in—because she was always coming to see Leon, these days—and Frey had cringed at the _thud_ of the book as she hurried up the steps. Who knew why she'd even _had_ a book on her head? Something about improving her balance, probably.

 _Focus, girl._ Xiao Pai's hypothetical balance lessons were somebody else's problem. Maybe Forte's. Frey had her _own_ problems.

Like not being able to knock on her _own boyfriend's door._

Blowing air out her nose, Frey chewed her lip. She wanted to tell him about the legend. It was just...this _something_ between them was so new, so exciting, she worried she'd make a wrong move and destroy it.

Because, well, Leon was strange. Sturdy as stone and just as dependable, but hard to predict, ever-shifting as a wildfire.

He was a worldly type of man; she could barely keep up with him at times. She was a woman with barely two years of memory. Everything still seemed bright and shiny to her, the world vivid and new. This childlike wonder hadn't gone unnoticed by the townsfolk and was a huge part of what initially endeared her to them. Even the mailbox was her friend by day two.

Frey knew she was naive. Porcoline's idea had been so _cute_ and _exciting_ half an hour ago, but now...well. Leon would just laugh, wouldn't he?

This was a bad idea.

Sighing, Frey accepted defeat, careful to be quiet in her retreat and look normal as she passed Xiao Pai. She shouldn't have bothered—the girl was too busy with her own dilemma to pay Frey's any mind.

"See you later, Xiao Pai," she called.

"What? Oh-" another dull _thud_ and a groan from Xiao Pai and her book. "Yes, until later, Frey!"

A bag of groceries and some idle chit-chat later, Frey still wasn't home. The late spring sky was clear and brilliant blue, and a restless breeze drifted in from the west. She felt antsy. Wound up. She hadn't felt so tense since her last mission out of Selphia, when she'd ended up stumbling into a den of monsters.

That was the problem with gut feelings. They only ever made sense in hindsight.

Instead of going home, she found herself drawn to the top of the observatory, where she carefully placed her groceries on the floor and rested her arms on the railing. The vastness of Selphia's beauty stretched out before her, making her problems feel very small.

As if she didn't feel small enough already.

"There's a storm coming," a low voice noted.

Frey jumped with a squeak. "Oh my gosh, _Dolce._ I didn't even see you there."

Dolce stood at the top of the stairs, a small smile on her face. "I get that often."

"It's 'cause you're so quiet, like a ghost," Frey teased.

Dolce scoffed, coming up to stand a polite distance away at the railing. "Believe me, ghosts _are not_ quiet, much as I wish they were."

"Be careful what you wish for, Dolly!" Pico scolded. She had a way of just _being_ there suddenly when she had something to say. Frey suspected she was always there, just outside of normal perception, visible only to Dolce. "You'd miss me if I was gone—mmf!"

"Quiet, you," Dolce said cheerfully, covering Pico's mouth with a hand. "Frey was here first. Let's not disturb her peace."

"It's alright," Frey said with a smile. Really, the two of them made her wonder what having a sister would be like, though others seemed to insist that they weren't a prime example. Frey didn't see the problem. What did it matter if they weren't normal? After everything she'd seen, a ghostly companion really wasn't all that strange.

Her humor faded, and Frey found herself lost in the distant horizon, looking for hints of the storm Dolce had mentioned and finding none.

Then, to her surprise, Dolce broke the silence. "Frey, it's...uncommon to see you so mellow," she said hesitantly.

"Oh," Frey shrugged, smiling, "sorry. I guess I'm just feeling odd today."

Dolce frowned; a delicate expression, but definitely there.

"What Dolly _means_ to say is you're usually running around, socializing, taming monsters, doing errands, whatever," Pico piped up, "so she's worried that you seem kinda sad."

"Do you want to die?" Dolce asked calmly.

"Oh, Dolly, you're so cool when you look like that!" Pico grinned, but actually faded from Frey's sight.

Huh. That was new.

Dolce had a light blush on her face, as she always did when Pico outed her true feelings. An awkward pause fell between them before Dolce tried again.

"If there _was_ something troubling you," she said, face blank, "I wouldn't mind...lending an ear."

 _That_ was new too. Frey knew Dolce was a sweetheart deep down, and was proud of the steps the she was taking toward the townsfolk, but hadn't expected to be offered counsel.

"Oh, well, it's pretty silly," Frey said, waving a hand.

Dolce raised an eyebrow. "So is everything around here."

"Fair," Frey laughed lightly. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, knowing Dolce would wait. Another warm breeze stirred the thin strands of her hair, tickling her shoulders. She sighed. "It's just...well...okay, please don't laugh, but Porcoline told me about this legend where you and your loved one write your names together on the airship so you'll be together forever," Frey explained.

"That's vandalism," Dolce said neutrally. "And unrealistic."

Frey laughed. "I know! It totally is!"

"But you want to do it," Dolce said. It wasn't a question. "With Leon."

"Yeah," Frey said, smiling sadly. "I know it's dumb, but I really do."

A pause. Then, "Why do you do that?"

"Huh?"

"That." Dolce frowned. "Invalidate your own feelings. I'm right to think it's unrealistic."

"Well," Frey backtracked, "I didn't really mean-"

"Which means you're right to find it meaningful," Dolce continued. Her cheeks were pink. "If you wanted to. Your thoughts belong to you. They hold just as much weight as anyone else's."

Frey paused. "I've never thought of it that way," she mused. "But Leon...he's..."

"Hmm?"

"He's not like me," she said in a rush. "I've only been around for _two years_ , Dolce. Some things come naturally, like talking and reading and fighting. Other things I've learned pretty well, like cooking and magic and how to be a town princess. But other things..." she gripped the guard rail, knuckles white. "Other things...are new. All the time. I'm an adult, sure, but I constantly feel like a kid in over her head. There's all this stuff I don't know and everyone else does and it's like, it's like I'm some impostor! I must seem _so_ naive, especially to someone like Leon-"

"Leon, of all people, will understand," Dolce interrupted wryly.

"Huh? What makes you think?"

Dolce paused. Talking about herself didn't come any more easily to her than it did to Frey. "When you brought Leon back to the world, I had not been...adjusting well."

"You...weren't?"

"Quite like yourself, I don't think anyone could tell," Dolce said. "I know them a bit better now, but then...Dylas was shy, and Amber's a child. Everything is different than it used to be for me, but even more so for _him."_ A man displaced in time. "He was rude. Annoying. Bothersome. And...he looked out for me." She paused, searching for words. "I saw him catching beetles with Amber, once. And chatting Dylas up about the best fishing poles. And when I saw the three of them, I...I realized I wasn't alone in this new, modern world."

Suddenly, Frey felt like an even bigger moron. "Oh, Dolce, I didn't even realize how I must sound."

"No," Dolce said firmly, surprising her. "That's just the thing, Frey. He's more like you than you think. We are all just...trying to find our footing in unfamiliar territory."

And Frey's heart clenched, because she understood. She really did.

Maybe her lack of memories wasn't so different than being weighed down by old ones.

"Thank you, Dolce," she whispered.

"No, Frey, we ought to be thanking you."

Frey smiled wide.

Suddenly, Dolce's seemed a little embarrassed. "Yes...well, I ought to be going..." She paused at the stairwell. "I saw Leon tormenting Forte by the bridge. Perhaps you could be her white knight—or at least a diversion." And then she was gone.

"That," Frey said to herself, "Isn't a bad idea."

Leon wasn't at the bridge, but Forte was, and she looked miffed.

"Frey," she greeted, a hand resting easily on the hilt of her sword. "Beautiful day today, isn't it? It's important to take a moment to appreciate the small things during busy times."

"From the looks of it, Leon thought the same thing," Frey said sympathetically. "I hope he didn't bother you too much, Forte."

Forte's expression soured. "Dolce saw and did nothing! Where's her honor? Er...well, or so I thought. I suppose sending you counts for _something..."_

"I'm really sorry for the trouble," Frey said earnestly, but it was a bit hard not to smile. "Did you happen to see where he went off to, Forte?"

"Honestly, what do you see in him, Frey? He's so.. _so..._ Oh!" She paled. "I'm—that was so rude! I'm sorry! He went back to the inn to grab something. You can probably catch him there if you hurry."

"Thanks, Forte! I'll make him apologize later!"

"That'd be something," Forte said as Frey ran off.

She'd rushed to the inn, easily running the whole way—just like Dolce said was common of her.

"Hi again, Xiao Pai!" Frey called without stopping to hear a reply. She felt ready to face anything, even Leon's silver tongue.

Yet she hesitated once again right outside his door.

 _Come on. Knock, Knock. Do it! It's so easy!_

Just as she raised a hand, the door swung inward to reveal Leon leaning against the frame.

He wasn't wearing his formal priest garb today—just baggy brown pants. And nothing else. His silver-blue hair was pulled into a loose, messy bun with a green cloth tied around the bangs to keep them out of his face.

She froze, face heating. "Oh, Leon! Hi!"

"That's the second time today you've been outside my room," Leon said, eyebrows raised, "and though I tried to give you time to work up whatever it is you're trying to, I couldn't risk you running off again."

"You heard me earlier?" She frowned.

His ears flicked. "I have very good hearing."

Which made her laugh. "Of course."

"You think that's funny?" Leon asked, feigning annoyance.

Frey just grinned. "It's hilarious."

"Ah," Leon acknowledged, "you're learning to read me. That's no good."

"Well, you're—wait," Frey said, "how'd you know it was me last time?"

"I know your scent."

" _What?"_

"Kidding," he grinned. "It was just a hunch. What can I do for you, Frey?"

"Um." Where had that resolve gone? "I wanted to talk to you about something, actually. Are you busy?"

"Never too busy for you," he said easily. "Feel free to come in, unless you want to have this talk in the hallway."

Frey flushed _again_ , eyes flitting to see if any guests were around.

"Worried for your reputation?" Leon teased. "Don't worry. Everyone knows I'm a perfect gentleman. Though," he paused, "a certain lady knight doesn't seemed convinced. I wonder why?"

"Oh, just get in there already!" Frey huffed, pushing a laughing Leon into his room and closing the door behind them. She noticed a pile of books on the desk, one open to reveal dusty, yellowed pages. "Woah, what's all this?"

"Ah, some translation work I'm doing for Arthur, as I'm the only guardian old enough to know certain cultural contexts within these texts," he said, sitting lightly on the edge of the bed.

"I didn't realize he'd hired you again! That's so cool, Leon," Frey said. She meant it. He had so much _history_ she sometimes thought she'd drown in it. "Anything interesting? Maybe new spells? Of the fighting variety?"

"Hah!" He rested his chin on his hand, grinning at her. "You're violent for such a little thing, Frey."

"I'm not little," she protested. "You're just too tall."

"Hmm." He stood and closed the few steps between them, making Frey suddenly very aware that Leon's room was not very big. The top of her head only came to his chest, and he placed a palm on it as if to compare their heights. Ridiculous. "No, I'm afraid you're truly pint-sized, Frey." He grinned. "The gods did that in the name of balance, I think. You're so fierce as it is."

"Is that a bad thing?" She tsked.

"It's different," Leon said. "I happen to like it, actually. So," he continued, "what did you want to talk with me about, Love?"

 _Love._ Such an intimate word, one he threw at her so carelessly. How? "Well, I was at Porcoline's earlier, right?"

"Correct, I assume," he said, taking a step back to give her some space.

She rolled her eyes. "So Porcoline told me something interesting."

"Oh?" Leon's eyes lit up. "And what's that?"

"A legend," she said shyly, "about the airship."

"A legend about the airship?" Leon repeated. "How is that to blame for your adorable red cheeks?"

She glared at him, and he just grinned wider, waiting. "Well...the legend he ma— _told_ me about says if two people write their names together on the airship, they'll..."

"Yes?"

"They'll be together forever," she finished in a rush.

"That's more of a superstition than a legend," Leon said, tapping his fan against his chin.

"Is there a difference?"

"Of course," he said. "A legend would be more like a tale of two lovers who did this already, and what happened to them."

 _Maybe we can be a legend._ But she couldn't say _that._ "A superstition, then. I thought it was interesting."

He looked thoughtful. "And you want to do this with me."

"Well, yeah," Frey said. She was starting to feel a bit flighty. "If you wanted to. It's okay if you don't."

"Sure," he smiled. "It sounds amusing. Perhaps with you, even an eternity wouldn't get dull."

"Amusing," she repeated. "I'm assuming that's some kind of compliment, coming from you?"

"If you see it as such, perhaps it is," Leon said, opening the door and slinging an arm around her shoulders. She nearly squeaked. His hold was loose, lazy, but she could feel his strength beneath it, the way his fingers pressed slightly into her shoulder making her feel all _kinds_ of strange. "Shall we?"

She blinked. "What, right now?"

"Unless you have something better to do?"

"Well." Frey paused, flipping through the chore list in her mind. "I have a delivery for Clorica, and I'm gonna need to pick up new feed for the cluckies, but besides that I think I'm done for today."

"Great. Then let's go," he said, slipping on some sturdy sandals.

"You going out in that?" she asked.

"What, should I change my pants?"

She crossed her arms. "You know what I meant."

He grinned, all sharp teeth and good humor. "Yes. Though I still think it odd that, while so many other things have become much more lenient, clothing seems to have simply reversed. Men must cover more, and women, significantly less. I find it unfortunate."

"You just don't wanna wear a shirt."

"Well, it _is_ hot out." Leon reached around her and grabbed a vest folded on a shelf. Sleeveless, thin and open-chested, it was hardly any different than being shirtless. Nevertheless, he shrugged it on. "Is this acceptable?"

She made a show of looking him over, feigning a critical eye. "Hmmmm. You'll do, I suppose," she said.

"You suppose, huh," he repeated. But the flick of an ear betrayed his mischief, as if saying ' _we'll see about that.'_ As he reached out to grab her, Frey ducked under his arm, opened the door and twisted into the hall.

"Shall we?" She grinned.

Leon shook his head and smiled back, bested—for now. "Let's."

Frey was strange. Contradictory. Every time Leon thought he'd finally figured her out, she did something to prove him wrong.

Such as taking his hand firmly in hers all the way to the airship, when she'd been acting so shy about the 'legend' all damn day. One minute he'd been enjoying her flustered face, the next he'd caught a secret, smug little smile on it as they left his room. It made him _wonder_ , that smile.

"Eager for this, are we?" he asked, amused.

She shrugged, but the smile lingered. "Of course. Hurry before someone else takes the ship out!"

"Does everyone in this town have a license to fly?" he asked wryly. "Perhaps I should look into that myself."

Frey shuddered. "The last thing we need is a _flying_ Leon."

"Are you sure? Picture it. Amber and me, dancing among the fairies..."

"Yeah, totally normal image. For Amber, not you."

"Don't tear down a man's dream, Love."

Frey didn't dignify that with a response. Instead she said, "Hey, looks like the airships free!"

"Excellent." He stepped ahead onto the metal walkway, helping Frey up by the hand he still held.

She cocked her head. "You don't need to do that, y'know."

"Ah, but I do. No need to be shy."

She rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh. Thanks, though."

His hand at the small of her back as she climbed the steps was automatic, rewarded with a gentle blush. He knew his _quirks,_ as she called them, confused her, but he couldn't bring himself to abandon _all_ his habits; times were clearly different, but there were simply certain things a man did for his woman. If that had faded, perhaps it was good he was here.

There were young minds to corrupt, after all.

Gently freeing her hand, Frey's face lit up aboard the airship. She had quite a talent for piloting the thing—well, she had a talent for a _lot_ of things completely foreign to Leon. And he admired her all the more for it. Women were strong, durable people, he knew, but now they were able to be so _unapologetic_ about it. And it was a sight to see.

The airship came to life with a shudder of metal and gas, and soon Frey had them drifting peacefully in the air. Some while later, when their flight was stable enough, she was able to leave the steering on autopilot and join him at the bow.

He stood with his arms rested on the guard rail, gazing out into the endless blue sky, as Frey came up beside him. The wild wind whipped her hair behind her head, and her eyes were filled with life. They comforted him, somehow. Made him drop his guard, the wicked things.

"In my time, I used to dream of flying through the sky," he said wistfully. "Of course a priest like me was never jealous of Ventuswill."

"Of course not," Frey allowed.

"I could never have guessed," he continued, "I'd be up here through human power, overlooking the sky with such ease."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, I do."

Frey shifted closer, looking uneasy. Leon's ear twitched toward her, and he cursed the damn things for being the dead giveaway to such a carefully perfected poker face. He'd need to work on that. "Eager to be near me?"

"Sure, sure." She didn't blush. Frey was building up a tolerance, which meant he'd need to get creative soon. "Leon, can I...ask you something very personal?"

He cocked his head. "Hm. If it's interesting." He tried not to tense up.

"No promises," she said wryly. "Are you...I mean, well, do you ever feel...out of place here?"

"Here?"

"Well, _now,_ I guess. This time. This Selphia."

Leon relaxed. That wasn't the topic he'd been worried about. "Are you trying to tell me that you do?"

She stiffened. "I-"

"It's alright," he said easily. "It's natural to find comfort in shared troubles. As a dragon priest, I was often an ear to such things."

She looked...dejected, somehow. "Oh. Was that...hard?"

"It's nothing like this," he told her. "I was a confidant, sometimes for confessions. On unfortunate occasions, a judge. Today I'm with a friend, as equals."

She paused. "If I knew an air ride would make you so serious, I'd have brought you up here forever ago."

He laughed, patting her shoulder good-naturedly. "For all you know, I'm pulling the most elaborate prank of your life."

"You'd _better_ not be playing with me, Leon!" She scolded. "I was serious!"

A wicked thought sprang forward, but he traded it for a milder one. His tail twitched, the only giveaway, as he turned toward her and leaned down so his face hovered just above hers.

"No," he said softly, watching her eyes freeze on his, "That wasn't playing, Love. You'll find my games to be much less discreet."

"Liar," she managed, taking a tiny step back, one he matched with a step forward. "You're all _about_ tricks. What'dyou call _this_?"

A brilliant flush on her pretty skin. Bright green eyes full of such _life,_ drawing him ever closer and closer. Leon reached a hand behind her head and ran it through the wind-tousled strands of a pigtail, letting himself, for a moment, believe he would actually do what he wanted to.

"Leon-"

He smoothed her hair from her forehead and planted a chaste kiss there, standing up straight and giving her some air. "Maybe I am playing," he grinned. "But making you guess is part of the fun."

He expected her stunned. He expected her scolding.

But she surprised him again but laughing, really _laughing._ "Man, I really walked into that," she said. "So, wanna pick a place to write our names, _Love_?"

Leon blinked. And blushed. "...Sure. Lead the way."

She tossed a knowing grin over her shoulder and sped off to search for a good spot, leaving _Leon,_ of all people, speechless. 

Teasing people was fun. It was practically his hobby. While anyone who'd seen him truly angry knew he could be much, much worse if he wanted to, most of his supposed "wicked tongue" wasn't meant with any bite. He liked reactions, and he liked causing them, if only to see that he could. People were filled with emotions and expressions they rarely even knew themselves; he loved to pull them to the surface. Sometimes he did so a little unkindly, like a struggling fish on a line, but he'd always toss them back to safe waters before long.

But Frey...she was the most interesting of all. Her depth of character was unknown to so many, _especially,_ he suspected, herself. This sometimes-shy, sometimes-brash, glass canon of a woman with her mysterious past and power had him hooked. Two years she'd served as Princess, and one year he'd lived in her Selphia. Six months of that year were spent pining for her, and then, because _she'd_ chased _him,_ four months of those six were spent by her side.

A year ago, just after he'd tried to tear her to pieces in the Forest of Beginnings, she saved him. Him, and the other three guardians who'd sacrificed it all to help Venti. He'd opened his eyes in a void of white and seen an _Earthmate._

Larger than life, standing proud and tall and so, so very sad. Emanating an unmistakable, ancient power. She was a force of nature with one last trick up her sleeve: sending _him_ home to Venti while she took the fall for a mess many times older than her short memory stretched.

Hell, she'd only been alive for a _year_ at the time, as far as she was concerned.

The next time, waiting outside Ventuswill's hall, he'd seen _her_ and was immediately struck by two unlikely facts: she was real, and she was...small. It didn't match up with the memory in his mind.

Now, a year later, they'd become friends and then some. The nearly-mythical appeal they initially seemed to hold for each other slowly faded to something tangible, and, well, it was selfish and made him a dreadful hypocrite for still practicing his gentlemanly ways, but...

He wasn't letting her go. Not if she wanted to stay.

Watching her cross the deck in search of something so mundane as a place to write their names, he was struck by the fact that he was witnessing, first-hand, the creation of a hero. One grand adventure was behind them, but some sense, some inner _knowing_ told him she'd do much greater before she was through.

There were many faces of Frey yet to be seen by anyone. He hoped to discover each and every on-in vivid detail.

"Spacing out, Leon?" Frey called over the wind. "Pretty un-priestlike!"

He snorted, pushing aside his revelation to join her on the other side of the deck, where she'd knelt down by a cargo crate twice his height.

He raised an eyebrow. "That's not the ship."

"Technically, right now, we would be writing our names _on_ the ship," she said coyly. "And this way it's not vandalism."

Leon snorted, kneeling next to her and reaching into her backpack for the small knife he knew she carried. He unsheathed it, carved his name into the crate and offered the knife to Frey, who took it somewhat reverently and added her own name next to his.

 _Leon & Frey_

And...

That was it.

"Well," Leon said, frowning, "that was a bit anticlimactic. Maybe we _should_ vandalize."

Frey snorted. "Come on. Maybe it's just...missing something."

"Hmm," Leon agreed. "It could be that it's missing our feelings."

"Our feelings?"

"Yes." He rested his arms on his knees, looking down at her. "Superstitions like this are just a nonsense ceremony to give form to one's feelings."

"What a thing for a priest to say," she teased.

"Ha-ha. I didn't say that made them _useless._ Like I said, they give form to a couple's feelings-to give them a shape, and a promise of the future."

"You told me once that you believed in the power of words," Frey mused. "But I suppose those words have to draw power from meaning."

She remembered that little exchange? "I would think so, yes."

"So doing them mechanically is no good," she said. "It's not some recipe."

"That's right." And it was.

How, Frey wondered, could he switch from trickster fox to such sincerity with _no in between?_ It was maddening.

It was wonderful.

"So how do we add our feelings to it? Like a spell?" Frey asked, eyeing her pack.

Leon laughed softly. "Always on the attack, even in love. Slow down a moment, Princess. Before I mucked it up earlier, what...were you trying to ask me?"

"What?" Oh. The _tease._ "Ah, it's—it's not that important."

He caught her eye. "Are you sure?"

 _Are you sure?_

Was she?

She paused. "Yeah. It's fine, really."

He didn't reply—didn't need to. Under his expectant eyes, her shell began to crack.

"Alright...no. I'm not sure. About—about anything. I...I don't know. Sorry!" She smiled ruefully, embarrassed. "I'm ruining this amazing date."

"Frey," Leon said levelly, "tell me what's wrong."

What _was_ wrong? She wasn't even sure. "I—this isn't your problem, Leon. I'm Selphia's _princess,_ and I'm-"

Leon caught her hands in his. "We are lovers," he said. So simple, so firm. "Just as your property now belongs to me, so too do your problems."

"I...wait, _what?"_ Frey stifled a laugh. "Leon, that's _archaic._ "

He frowned. "It means it's my job to protect what is yours. It is a burden taken willingly by a man so a woman can be secure."

Oh, dear. "Leon," she said, freeing a hand to touch his cheek, "thank you. But a person—man or woman or otherwise—has to be able to stand on their own two feet to live. My things, your things—they come together slowly. For both of us."

He paused, brows furrowing. "Logically, I know you must be right. Forgive me, Frey, if I'm sometimes a bit _archaic._ To answer your earlier question, yes, I often feel out of place here. I've mistepped and insulted you, of all people, with something that was simply a given in my time." He dropped her other hand.

"I'm not insulted," she said firmly, giving his cheek a pat. "And you know, I'm not even sure who's rules I'm supposed to be playing by anyway. I know you respect me. That's all that matters."

He turned his face and kissed her palm. She snatched her hand away, blushing furiously.

He actually _smirked,_ the devil. "I respect you," he said seriously, a contrast to his expression, but one Frey believed. "And we'll figure out the little things as we go. Okay?"

Frey nodded. "Okay."

"Good." Leon's tail flicked. "Although..."

She blinked. "Yes?"

"You say 'okay'. Why is it, then, that I sense you haven't yet said your piece?"

"Oh," Frey said. She bit her lip.

And squinted against hot pricks in her eyes.

 _Oh._

"Frey," Leon said, surprised.

"I know you've got...all this _history,_ " she said, feeling pathetic, selfish. "There's so much of _you_ I feel like a candle to a wildfire, sometimes."

Leon looked shocked. "What?"

"And then there's me, and Dolce said it makes us all similar, because we're lost and searching for common ground in a new world we don't understand, but what am I comparing this to? I don't feel lost in Selphia—maybe I just think I _should._ Truth is, I'm happy here, but do I deserve to be?"

Leon stared. "What would make you think otherwise?"

"I don't know _who I am!"_ She threw her arms up, her voice cracking. "And neither does anyone else. I could be someone—someone _terrible,_ Leon, someone you'd hate! And Selphia— _Venti-_ made me their damn _princess!_ What if I'm a plant from an enemy? Spelled to remember myself one day and ruin Selphia from the inside? Hurt people...betray Venti! Or—I could be—I could've had a family, or even a—a—what if by being with you, I'm-"

"Frey. Dolce is right."

"How can she be?" She bit her lip hard.

Leon shifted so he faced her fully, his knees touching hers, and leaned forward. Shocking her, he took her face in both his hands. They were rough and calloused against her cheeks, and she felt surrounded, encompassed in him. Still, even as they held firm and forced her to look him in the eye, they were gentle.

His eyes were another story. Steady with wisdom, dancing with mischief; they plotted, revealingas much as they hid _,_ like they always did. But they were always genuine, even when _he_ wasn't. Such was the contradictory nature of the man from another age.

"Frey, listen to me carefully. You, right now, are no less you than I am compared to the Leon from the past. Do you understand?"

She sniffed. "No."

"The first time I saw you, I was awakening from a thousand-year slumber," he said flatly. "One that eventually corrupted my heart and turned me into a monster. You fought Sarcophagus—me. I saw you, and saw an Earthmate. A mage, a warrior. And I felt very small indeed."

Frey couldn't look away from his eyes. "How could _you_ ever feel small? Everyone looks up to you. You were a leader. Even now, people look to you."

She'd been appointed a leadership role before she even knew her name wasn't _Arthur._ Sometimes, it was hard not to compare her skills to the _real_ Arthur. Or Leon. Or anyone.

"You sent me home to Venti," he continued, "barely more than a child in a new world, no reason to feel loyalty to anyone, yet no reason not to sacrifice such a short existence for what you perceived as something greater than yourself. Something you have in common with more experienced Earthmates, I understand. And maybe guardians, as well."

"I had to!" She insisted. "You did the same-"

"It made me feel very small, for I saw my efforts reflected in yours, successful where mine were not. And it made me feel very sad for the Earthmate who'd seen her life as expendable. Angry, that I couldn't stop her. And very worried for her, once I realized she was Venti's friend and about to face a dragon's loving wrath."

Frey finally laughed against the tears, leaning into Leon's touch. "It wouldn't have been possible without you, Leon. You started this. Saved her."

"We all played our parts. I'm myself, Frey. Just as I am and am not the Leon of yesterday, you are, and are not, the same Frey you've always been. Yesterdays, forgotten or remembered, don't change the now, Love, and you've got plenty to fill the present. Let yourself have it. You're not incomplete, you clever, brave woman." Leon's face grew serious. "You are whole."

Frey jumped forward and kissed him.

He stiffened, surprised, then laughed low against her mouth. Warm breath, warm fingers tangling in her hair, warm legs on either side of hers.

They'd kissed, sure. Brief little things, usually Frey's to Leon's cheek or Leon's to Frey's forehead. Once or twice, a peck on the mouth after a date. Those were nice; those felt nice. This was something else, something new.

And, though he'd always been a perfect gentleman despite his flirting and teasing, something changed in Leon's posture. She felt it as he pushed back against her with his mouth. His kiss was like a question.

She knew the answer.

"Frey..." he breathed.

She kissed him slowly, testing the waters. Neither of them had extensive experience here, and when it came down to it, they were on equal footing. Both a bit awkward, both a bit shy.

It was careful, but consuming, and an answer to that _something_ she often felt when Leon teased her a bit too much. His lips found her jaw and neck, where the slightest prick of those fox-sharp teeth grazed across her racing pulse. She sucked in a breath, trying not to jump, and pulled his hair free from its tie on a whim.

He pulled her a bit closer, an action demanding _re_ action—a challenge, one she was almost certain she couldn't match just yet. Still, she found she _wanted_ him to hold her tighter, _wanted_ him to, well...say something Leon-like.

But then, somehow, it slowed; Leon pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, humor and fire dancing in his eyes, and she grinned at him as they caught their breath.

Honestly, she was surprised. Prankster though he may be, he was serious about his values, and couldn't seem to shake the notion that he'd somehow dishonor her with too much... _contact_ before marriage. And since marriage wasn't on the table, he really was a _tease._

But, well, _she_ didn't share the values of his time, and if he was changing his mind on them...

She wouldn't complain.

"You," Leon said matter-of-factually, "got me into trouble."

"Me?" Frey laughed. "I think _you're_ the one who took that up a notch, Leon!"

He cleared his throat and pulled back, and she was oddly thrilled to see his face flushed, his hair in disarray. "Yes, well, it's your fault for being so tempting. Now," he continued, a satisfied smile growing on his face, "I suppose we've added our _feelings_ to the carving, haven't we?"

Frey blinked. "Jeez, I guess we did. A little different than what I expected, but..."

Leon seemed to recover a bit faster than she, but that was probably just because he had a better poker face. "This superstition is supposed to grant us eternity, right? So we had to be sure our feelings were strong enough to earn it."

"Earning eternity...that's a bit daunting for someone who can only remember two years," she said sheepishly. "Though this _was_ my idea."

"I see. Shall we add a line to this text, then, to more accurately capture your hopes for us?"

Frey paused in thought. "Yeah. I like that."

"Then in the spirit of which emotion do you think we should do this?"

Which emotion indeed? Love was obvious, new as it was. Passion had...already been added. Hope wasn't right, nor was devotion...they had these things.

She thought of the guardians, woken from their long slumber in new, foreign times; she thought of Leon, searching for purpose and direction in a land where he'd once been high priest to a god. She thought of herself, her quiet terror that she'd let everyone down, and she thought of the things she could sense Leon still wasn't ready to tell her, things that haunted him and had him withdrawing at the strangest of times.

What they needed was...

"Courage," Frey said firmly. "Lasting courage, to live for today. To understand each other when it's hard."

"Lasting courage...that isn't half-bad," Leon said. "Let's write it together."

 _Leon and Frey_

 _pledge ourselves here_

 _with everlasting courage._

" _That_ should do it," Leon smiled, standing up and offering Frey a hand. This time she took it, letting him pull her up.

"Yeah," she agreed. A distant crack of thunder sounded in the distance. "Oh. That storm Dolce promised. Is she ever wrong?"

"Rarely," Leon said fondly. "One of her more difficult qualities."

"I suppose we ought to take the ship home before we get caught in it." Frey made to move away, but Leon caught her and held her there.

"Not yet," he said. "It's still missing something."

"Still?"

"Yes. Let's add a final touch. Close your eyes, Love."

"And?"

" _And_ hold still." Then the warmth of his arms surrounded her as he left the ghost of a kiss on the edge of her lips.

She hugged him back, burying her face in his chest. "Leon?"

"Mmm?"

"If my burdens are yours, yours are mine, now, too."

He paused. Then laughed, a happy, quiet sound. "I suppose they are."

 **This is the first fic I've ever finished and posted, which is neat.**

 **Based on the event "Sweet Nothings" from the game.  
I, uh, obviously took some liberties.**

 **I hope you enjoyed my little story! Feel free to speak your mind.**


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